Henryʼs hand trembled as he pulled the pistol out of his coat. And although he was admittedly scared, he found that he was still man enough not to run away from this situation. But he wouldnʼt just get out and play right into Damianʼs hands either. The way the latter was quickly approaching, the pistol drawn, his face distorted with hatred, Henry found that it wasnʼt wise to challenge him to a duel. Somehow, he was certain that Damian would not fight fair and would even go as far as to commit coldblooded murder.
Ever so quickly, Henry slipped out of the coach through the door which was facing away from Damian—and crept underneath the vehicle where he found enough space for him to hide without having to lie flat on the ground. From here he could jump out whenever he deemed it appropriate and by doing so would hopefully surprise his enemy as it was too dark for Damian to see Henry crouching there.
But Henry could see Damian, which was a major advantage.
Damian had reached the coach. Henry heard Wheeler mumble a greeting, which Damian didnʼt return. Instead, the latter jerked open the door of the vehicle and peered inside.
“Get out, Abbott!” he yelled angrily, followed by a grumpy ʻWhere the hell is he?ʼ when he noticed that Henry wasnʼt there.
Damian slammed the door shut again. He quickly walked around the coach and scanned the darkness for a possible sign of Henry. Eventually he turned around and began to climb up the coachbox where Wheeler, puzzled and slightly scared at this stage, was still waiting for further instructions from Henry.
“Please, donʼt shoot me...” Henry heard the coach driver stammer. He guessed that the poor man might have encountered the odd creep on his dubious tours, but he obviously had not seen amyone as furious and determined as Damian before.
“Where has he gone?!” Damian spat at Wheeler in rage. Henry saw Damianʼs feet stepping down from the coachbox again. He had grabbed the driver by the collar and was now pulling him down from the coach.
“I... I donʼt know... I really donʼt know,” Wheeler stammered. “He was in the coach a minute ago...”
Stupid fool… Henry thought, angry at the fact that the coachman gave him away. But at the same time he could understand that Wheeler was keen to save his own skin in the face of that mad stranger who had so unexpectedly appeared and who was now shaking him so much that his legs gave in. Helplessly, the driver sank to the ground, a terror-stricken expression on his face.
“Where is he?!” Damian yelled at him once more, his back facing Henry.
Henry realized that this was the moment he had been waiting for. Secretly, he emerged from underneath the coach and, careful not to make any noise, approached Damian on silent feet until he finally stood right behind him. He slowly raised the pistol and aimed it at Damianʼs neck.
I could kill him now... he thought, nervously clutching the handle of the gun.
His fingers trembled as he was watching Damian tower over the coach driver who lay on the ground and was wriggling in Damianʼs grip.
No, he couldnʼt kill him.
I am not a murderer...
But wasnʼt it self-defense? Wasnʼt he about to save another manʼs life? And was he not certain that Damian would never be that considerate in the same situation?
Still, he couldnʼt do it although the temptation was big.
But apart from the fact that didnʼt want to be a killer, there was another reason that held him back from shooting Damian, and that was that he wanted to avoid any major commotion. A single shot would have woken the whole of the neighborhood, and in a matter of minutes he would have been surrounded by an awful lot of people – including the guards. There would have been no chance ever to save Sarah, as he most definitely would have ended up in prison straight away.
But then he realized that he didnʼt really need to kill Damian. There were still other possibilities at hand to put his rival out of action.
Henry didnʼt hesitate, swung the pistol and forcefully hit Damian on the head with it. The latter immediately collapsed on top of the coach driver, whose slightly hysterical look in the eyes conveyed that he was close to a nervous breakdown.
Henry incredulously looked down at Damianʼs body at his feet and chuckled in surprise.
That was easier than I thought...
Damianʼs pistol had fallen out of his hand and onto the ground. Henry quickly picked it up, opened the door of the coach and threw it inside, thinking that it was better if Damian didnʼt get hold of it again. But then again, he knew that Damian would not be able to get hold of it anyway as Henry intended to tie him up so that he wouldnʼt be able to follow him and Sarah to the port when he woke up from his involuntary slumber. But first, he needed to help the Wheeler.
He took his own pistol and stuck it inside of his trouser pocket. Then he bent down, grabbed Damian by the shoulders and pulled him off the coachman, who was still struggling underneath him.
“Are you alright?” Henry asked the driver.
Wheeler stared at him with big and fearful eyes as if Henry too represented a source of danger for him.
“Leave me alone! Donʼt touch me!” he shouted, got up and climbed back onto the coach box as fast as he could. “If I had known that there would be a shooting involved, I would not have taken part in this in the first place!”
Henryʼs heart missed a beat when he saw the driver snatching the reins of his horses.
“No!” he called out, realizing that the coachman was about to drive off. “Please, donʼt! Everything is fine! There is no danger anymore!”
He jumped forward in an attempt to stop the horses that had already begun to move.
“Donʼt leave! I am begging you!”
But the coachman ignored him. He fired his horses and swung his riding whip. Then he let out something that sounded like a primal scream and quickly disappeared into the night and out of sight.
Incredulously, Henry was looking after him.
Damn it… he thought despairingly, wondering what to do. How should he get to the port now? Soon, he came to the conclusion, however, that he would have to save up his worries for later because first there was another problem he had to solve: he had to get rid of Damian.
He was just about to turn around and walk back over to him, but before he had a chance to do so something unexpected happened: All of a sudden he felt something wrap around his neck from behind, throttling him.
It was Damianʼs arm, having him in a stranglehold.
“It takes a little more than a single knock on my head to stop me, Abbott...” Henry heard his rivalʼs raspy whisper at his ear. He began to helplessly wriggle in Damianʼs grip, tried to say something, but all that came out of his mouth was a faint guttural sound.
“How rude of you to simply dispose of my gun without asking me for permission,” Damian hissed and wrapped his harm even tighter around Henryʼs neck. “But donʼt you worry, I do not need a gun to finish you off. You know, I could easily break your neck now, but that would be too quick for my taste. I want to see you suffer, Abbott. I want to see you slowly die in my arms...”
Henry began to gasp as the air around him was getting thinner. His hands were clutching Damianʼs arm in a desperate and pointless effort to pull it away, but Damian, that tall and wiry man, proved to be incredibly strong.
“Tell me, where did you want to take her? To the poor house?” Damian asked. “I would like to let you in on a secret before you die. Whatever Sarah might have told you, whatever she promised you about following you, rest assured these were just lies, because a long time ago she has already come to the realization that there is nothing you could possibly have to offer to her apart from a pathetic life in poverty, full of shattered illusions and disappointments. The truth is that she just helped me to get rid of you because she is in fact sick of you chasing her. I knew that you would be coming tonight. I was awaiting you because she told me that you would come.”
Again, Henry tried to say something, tried to hurl it into Damianʼs face that he didnʼt believe a single word he said, but he was
far too busy struggling against the pressure on his throat which had become unbearable.
And then there was something else that he tried to struggle against. It was the uncertainty that Damian was telling the truth.
Could it really be? Could Sarah and have just led him on? Had she lied to him when they had met in the bathroom of the hotel, when she had told him that she truly loved him and that she finally wanted to be with him forever?
Had she really been part of a terrible plotting that he had been unaware of?
He couldnʼt believe it. He didnʼt want to believe it.
Still, Damianʼs words had unsettled him. And although his heart told him that none of it was true, there was an inkling of doubt, mingling with shock and despair.
“It amuses me how we managed to not only fool you but also this traitor of her uncle, who was so stupid to believe that I wouldnʼt suspect that he had always been your ally,” Damian added. “I actually wonder where he is right now? I almost expected him to be here in order to hold your hand in case you get afraid. Or is it that he got afraid himself? Maybe he has shrunk with fear and has hidden in your trouser pockets?”
Damian began to chuckle maliciously. His breath smelt of the wine he had consumed before.
Suddenly, Henry remembered the second pistol that he still carried in his trouser pocket and prayed to God that Damian wouldnʼt come up with the idea to reach down to his pockets. Henry knew that if he did, Damian would notice the gun, and then Henry would have lost every bit of a chance to win this fight, although right now his prospects werenʼt already too good already.
He played with the thought of secretly reaching down to the gun, quickly take it out and threaten Damian with it. But then he wondered how he should do it. Even if he was able to get hold of the gun, he wouldnʼt be able to see at all where he was aiming at, twisted as he was in Damianʼs firm grip. And how should he aim with Damian standing behind him? Certain that Damian would take the gun away from them as soon as he saw it, Henry decided that the gun would know serve him unless he had freed himself.
He wrapped his fingers around Damianʼs arm again, pulled at it, trying to get himself some breathing space, but he was running out of strength, got dizzy, felt his body getting weaker and weaker, felt strange spasms creep through his body.
I am dying...
Then, suddenly, something caught his attention.
It was Sarah.
In the distance, he saw her climbing down the façade of the hotel, holding on to some white rope that was dangling out of the window.
Henry let out a gargle.
Damian, who obviously had not noticed Sarah as yet, began to chuckle again.
“Can you already see the light?” He whispered. “Donʼt you worry, it will not be long from now.”
“Sa… Sar…ah…!” Henry croaked under his breath.
“Well, too late, my dear, too late,” Damian growled spitefully. “She is mine now, for eternity…”
With all of his remaining force, Henry managed to raise his arm and pointed his finger over to the hotel.
“Sar…ah…win…dow…!”
Slightly confused, Damian looked up.
“What in the name of God…” he mumbled when he finally saw Sarah.
The unexpected sight of hers left him so surprised and distracted that, without realizing it, he slightly loosened his grip around Henryʼs neck. To his utter relief Henry noticed that he could move his head again. He immediately took this opportunity and bit Damian in the arm. Damian flinched. Then Henry rammed his elbow straight into his rivalʼs stomach.
While Damian was writhing in pain, Henry stumbled forward and fell on his knees, clutching his throat, choking. In the distance, he could see Sarah still struggling her way down the wall of Mount Merrion Hotel.
Relief washed over Henry. He was certain now that Damian had lied to him and that Sarah had never tried to trap him. He almost felt ashamed for having suggested that she could be able to do something like that. At the same time, he was almost dying with worry, he wanted to run straight over to her and catch her, in case she fell, but there was no time for it as he needed to keep Damian at bay. The latter had already recovered from the blow and was now storming towards Henry, his face distorted with rage.
Before Henry had a chance to finally get the pistol out of his pocket, Damian had jumped at him and gave his face a blow with the fist. Henry tumbled backwards and fell. The pain was enormous and for a moment Henry worried that Damian had dislocated his jaw.
in the meantime, Damian began to kick his foot against Henryʼs shin bone, then in his stomach, and in his ribs. While defending himself from Damianʼs attacks, Henry tried to reach down to his trouser pockets in an attempt to draw the pistol, but then Damian suddenly threw himself at Henry, letting out a menacing growl.
Henry knew that Damian had seen the gun and that he wanted it.
The two men were wrestling on the ground as both tried to be the first one to get hold of the gun in Henryʼs trousers pocket. Henry found himself in a rather unfortunate position. He was lying underneath Damian, trying hard to get the upper hand, but Damian kept pushing him back on the ground whenever Henry made an attempt to get up and shake him off.
Suddenly, Henry felt Damianʼs hand slip into his trouser pockets, but he managed to get hold of Damianʼs wrist and keep him from taking the gun out. Again, he became aware of Damianʼs enormous strength, but at the same time he was surprised about his own.
“Let go of it! You will lose this fight anyway!” Damian growled.
Henry still felt Damianʼs hand in his pocket, clutching the gun, but unable to retrieve it, because Henry held him back. The next moment, however, Henry felt Damianʼs free hand clutching his throat.
Henry knew he needed to do something to shake Damian off, as the latter was trying to throttle him again. Although he could hardly move his head, he tried to look around him, spotted a heap of fresh and wet horse dung that was lying right next to him, and suddenly had an idea which he deemed rather risky. But he knew he had no other choice.
And so he momentarily let go of Damianʼs hand. He saw how Damian pulled the pistol out of the trouser pocket. Then Damian threw up his arm into the air, triumphantly waving the gun.
Henry felt Damian’s grip around his neck loosen.
That was the moment he had been waiting for.
You might be strong, Damian, but not clever… Henry thought with a flicker of hope. Then he ever so quickly reached out and grabbed a handful of the dung.
Immediately realising what Henry was up to, Damian tried to fend Henry off, but Henry was quicker. Before Damian knew what was going on, Henry had already pressed the dung right into his rivalʼs face and rubbed it into his eyes. It was a simple as it was effective.
Damian let out an angry scream. He tried to hit Henry in the face, but as his vision was now impaired, he missed his target. Henry was still lying underneath Damian, trying to snatch the gun out of his rivals hands, but as Damian was still holding the gun up into the air, Henry couldnʼt reach it. But at least he managed to give Damian a fist blow in the face.
Damian tumbled backwards, spitting blood. Amidst the blood there was something that Henry identified as a tooth.
“You bastard!” Damian cried out, lisping slightly.
Henry ignored him. All he wanted was to finally get hold of the gun. When Damian was still busy wiping the dung off his face, Henry jumped forward and tried to snatch the gun out of Damianʼs hands. Damian, although still half blind, tried to fend Henry off, but when Henry gave him another kick in the stomach with his elbow, he let the gun drop to the ground.
Henry bent to get it. Next to him, Damian, who quickly recovered from the blow, jumped to his feet, and when Henry tried to reach the pistol, Damian suddenly stomped right on his hand. Henry let out a scream as Damianʼs boot threatened to crush every single bone in his fingers. Damian laughed out loud and didnʼt show any inclination to remove his foot. Quite contrary he reinforced his pressure as he
bent down and picked up the pistol from the ground.
Henry let out a whimper. He tried to push Damianʼs leg away with his free hand, but Damian was standing like a rock, crossing his arms in front of his chest and laughing maliciously.
“I could easily kill you now, Abbott...” he growled.
Henry was unable to turn around and see what Damian was doing, as he was still crouching next to him, his hand stuck under Damianʼs foot. But from the clicking sound next to his ear, Henry could gather that Damian pointed the gun right at his head.
“You canʼt just shoot me like that. That would be plain murder!” Henry muttered.
“I do not care!” Damian retorted.
“There are no bullets in it,” Henry croaked, which was a lie. At the same time he secretly let his free arm wander up Damianʼs leg towards his crotch.
Henry & Sarah Page 39
